A very personal view on war

For obvious reasons my weekend has been spent across the internet and television, on the phone with family and friends back home, and in between text messages on cellphones.

When the first bomb fell on my hometown of Haifa (where my entire family and 90% of my friends live), my 13-year-old niece sent me a text message that said "A rocket fell on my head, and now I have high fever." (טיל נפל לי על הראש, עכשיו יש לי חום)

Last time I was caught outside of my homecountry when my hometown was bombarded, I was visiting my brother in South Africa. My nephew was a year and a half old (this is my favourite nephew and the eldest among all my nieces and nephews). We watched on CNN the scud missiles falling on my city. We finally found a flight back (this wasn't easy because all flights to Israel were cancelled during the war). I received special instructions from my father when we land at the airport: "When you receive your gas mask at the airport request them to give you one with a drinking straw, because the one they gave me doesn't have it!" My passport was stamped with "Received gas mask." They even placed it in the last page of the passport where there'll be no doubt about it. Felt kind of wierd to walk around with a passport stamped with sure proof that yes, I indeed arrived in Israel in the middle of a war.

My 1.5 year old nephew didn't receive a gas mask. He received this very strange tent which was supposed to keep the gas away from him. My nephew's first encounter with his country was through a plastic tent. I was very sad for him and kept hoping this war will be the last one and he won't remember this war nor experience bombs falling near him.

My nephew is almost 17 now! Next year he will join the army. He's learning how to drive this summer. When he's home he's taking care of his brother and sister and making sure they stay in the shelter and don't leave until after the sirens stop.

It's so tough for me not to cry when I think of him joining the army in less than a year. I'd do anything for this kid! ANYTHING!

During that war, my best friend came over to visit me at my house. We played on my computer when the sirens went off. We calmly took our gas masks and went to the hallway in my house. Put it on. But I stupidly forgot to undo the cap on the nosepiece and had difficulty taking a deep breath. It took me a couple of breathes before I realised my stupidity. I felt like an idiot! Wars make you feel that way when you get caught unprepared.

Back in the war of '67 and '73 every house had a shelter at the bottom. A typical house in Israel is an apartment building. All neighbours sat together inside the shelter which was made with extra thick walls of concrete (houses in Israel are made of concrete). In the Persian Gulf war, the fear was of gas - the safest place in the house was at the top floor, because gas glides low. So we stayed at the top. New houses in Israel are built with a special requirement for one room called a "safe room." It's a room that is constructed with extra reinforcement bars in the concrete. You no longer share a traumatic event with all your neighbours.

I'm listening to the Israeli radio on the internet all day. They have a new dilemma. They're not allowed to mention where the latest rockets fell, since that would give better directions to the Hizbullah about the success of their bombings. This is an old dilemma that existed in the Desert Storm war. How do you report from the field without clearly identifying where the rocket fell? During one of the bombings, the newsreporter said, "A rocket just fell on an undisclosed place in the middle of the country. With us is Ramat Gan's mayor to comment on it...." As the mayor proceeded to explain that it fell ten minutes from his house.

The Patriot missiles have been placed back in my city. The sound of a Patriot missile being fired is deafening! Frightening to anyone living within two kilometers from the launch pad.

When you hear the sirens and reach the shelter or the safe room in your building you sit and pray that you won't hear anything! When you hear the loud bang it means the Patriot failed to intercept the missile and it fell on the ground. When you don't hear anything - interception happened in the air.

My sister-in-law was vacationing in Europe when these recent events began. She returned to Israel today. She was on the train from the airport to Haifa when the rockets began falling. The train stopped south of Haifa and everyone had to get off and seek shelter. My sister-in-law with her suitcases had to find shelter and since all communication lines were cut off she could not get a hold of anyone to pick her up. Somehow with the help of other Israelis she reached a shopping mall downtown and waited for the phone lines to get back in order. She's back home now. The kids feeling relieved to have her back since they experienced the last few sirens on their own inside the bomb shelter in their home. When I spoke to my youngest nephew (11) he sounded older. Five years older. As if he grew up overnight. I think that's what shocked me the most. Not hearing his usual happy voice on the phone. Not hearing that childish and playful voice. It hurt me.

When he was 5 years old a terrorist attack he heard on the news angered him so much that he built a toy tank and placed it on the middle of the floor in the room. He told everyone that it will keep terrorists away from him and will kill them all. How do you unlearn such anger from a 5 year old? How do you channel it somewhere else?

I pay for his Tennis lessons. He takes the anger out on tennis balls. But now he's closed at home. Can't leave. Sleeping in a shelter tonight. All that anger just building up. Next year his older brother, his best friend and hero will join the army.

What the ^*$& am I doing here? I should be with the people I love!!!